Flowers, Swords and France

By the time Ciel woke up, it was already late at night.

When he just woke up, his mind was still a little confused, but soon he found Charlotte lying in his arms, pillowing his right hand, and then recalled the scene a few hours ago. Various confusing scenes.

Just now, amid the gunfire outside, I pushed Charlotte down on the bed and did it again. Charles told himself this fact in his heart, and then, he suddenly felt extremely embarrassed on his face - Am I such an unstable guy? He was obviously just here to persuade her, so why did he just try to persuade her...

However, he quickly thought of excuses for himself. Forget it, aren’t all men like this?

He forced himself to turn his thoughts away. There's still a lot to do, isn't there?

He decided to get up first and go downstairs to take a look, so he slowly pulled his hand back. Yu Charlotte was still sleeping, so his movements were very gentle, for fear of waking her up. This girl had just suffered such a degree of shock before, and she really should take more rest.

In the moonlight outside, Ciel looked at Charlotte, who was still immersed in sleep.

She was sleeping deeply now, her fair face was slightly flushed, her breathing was very even, her chest was rising and falling slightly, and her long eyelashes covered her face, like a scene in a fairy tale.

It is indeed beautiful!

Looking at Charlotte, Charles had mixed feelings in his heart at the moment. There is both an appreciation for beauty and an indescribable pity, and even more so, some guilt - I have always felt guilty for being so unkind to her.

With his mind agitated, Ciel couldn't help but move closer. He kissed her forehead gently again, then slowly stood up and put on his clothes again. then. He carefully pulled the quilt over Charlotte and left the room.

As soon as he walked downstairs, a servant came over and politely told him that Duke Treville was waiting for him in the study, so he quickly followed the servant towards the study.

Since it was late at night, the roar of guns and artillery that had always been heard was now much smaller, leaving only sporadic gunshots. Only occasionally can the silence here be broken.

"Are you awake?" He had just walked into the study, and Duke Treville, who was immersed in writing documents, raised his head slightly and greeted him coldly. "It seemed like you had a good few hours just now?"

Although his face was still as cold as ever, Ciel always felt that there was some teasing in it - but at this moment, of course, he did not have the courage to retaliate, so he had to avoid the topic with embarrassment.

"You just tried to persuade me to drink. But I didn't taste a drop." Charles looked at the Duke with a slight displeasure. "If I remember correctly."

"Yes, I didn't drink." The Duke didn't even move his eyebrows. "I said, I'm old and can't drink strong liquor."

"Is this the only reason?" Charles asked.

After waking up, Charles naturally figured out that there must be something wrong with the wine he drank before, so he was suddenly so impulsive.

"Is this question important?" the Duke asked rhetorically. Then he looked at him as well, "I agree. What really matters is that Charlotte loves you, so you can give her the best comfort in her loss - and this is what your grandfather and I want to see most. Even before you were born, we agreed to marry our grandchildren, and now that you have grown up and reached this age..."

Then, his vision softened a lot. "Charle, you should know what we old men think. Our time is running out... Of course we hope that our children and grandchildren can live well. Don't find these words boring. For an old man like me, family matters That’s everything.”

Listening to the Duke's rare sincere words, Charles fell into silence, and for a moment he didn't know what to say.

There is no doubt that as a politician who has been in officialdom for many years, Duke Treville's considerations cannot be just so warm and superficial. His main purpose is to quietly eliminate Charlotte's troubles and reward her by the way. The family made a contribution to the Shire. But, no matter what, he definitely still has a lot of feelings for Charlotte, his granddaughter, and he will definitely hope to find a better home for her - if it goes as planned, the marriage will have a bright future. Charles must be the one who can reassure this old man the most.

Seeing Ciel's slightly embarrassed look, the Duke sighed secretly and stopped pressing Ciel.

"Okay, let's put this aside for now. There are many more important things to do recently..."

"Don't worry..." Suddenly, Ciel spoke.

"Um?"

"Don't worry, I know Charlotte's feelings for me." Charles did not look at the old man again, but his tone was very determined, "So, I will never let her get into misfortune."

After hearing this promise from Charles, even the Duke, who always kept his emotions secret, had a flash of joy in his eyes.

"Since you can think so, that's the best." He nodded slightly, "I hope that day comes as soon as possible."

Then, without waiting for Ciel's answer, he changed the subject.

"Philip told me last night that their progress was very smooth. The mob was almost driven out of the city, and now they can only support themselves in the suburbs. This chaos looks like it will be completely quelled by the army soon."

The Philip he was talking about was of course the little Duke Treville.

"It's as expected." Charles replied calmly, "No matter how hard they fight, those people can't resist a fully armed army."

"That's right." The Duke continued, "Whoever controls this army controls the country. So, we must not let them be controlled by General Cavaignac."

Just when Charles was about to agree with the old man's opinion, he suddenly added another sentence.

"... Of course, it's better not to be completely in Louis Bonaparte's hands."

This sentence made Charles' heart jump suddenly. There is no doubt that such words must never be said to any outsider again.

"What you said to those officers that day. Philip has already told me." The Duke glanced at Charles and continued, "The idea is good. But the force is not enough. Yes, we really can't let Louis Bonaparte win the hearts of the army too much - but our methods should be more clever, and it won't work just by a few words."

"What does it mean...?" Charles was a little confused.

"Boom!" Suddenly, there was another artillery explosion outside, which instantly destroyed the silence just now.

"Did you hear it? What's that sound?" The Duke asked Charles in a low voice.

"Is it the sound of artillery?"

"No, Charles, it's not artillery." Duke Treville shook his head. Then he answered, "It's a shout."

"Shout?"

"Yes, it's the sharp roar of the army." The Duke said coldly. "'Thirty years have passed! We don't want to be bystanders anymore!' 'We want this country to act according to our will!' And so on. The army doesn't want to stay in this small country and do nothing. Even the blood of the mob can't calm their restlessness - what's the big deal about killing a few mobs? There will be honor, a large amount of military funds, and honors. And titles?"

"That's right. Killing the mob can't satisfy the army's growing ambitions." Charles nodded in agreement with the Duke of Treville's opinion, "They want to play big and fight a few wars, so that they can get a chance to be promoted and get the so-called honor."

"Boom!" "Boom!"

The continuous sound of artillery bombardment came over, and it was obvious that the army had started a new round of bombardment.

The shells fired in Paris today will fall into other countries sooner or later. If Louis Bonaparte doesn't do it, the army will let others do it. This is a certainty. After proving that it is actually omnipotent within the country, what else will the army have to worry about?

"In our respectable and great army, there are no words like self, equality and fraternity. Instead, there are infantry, cavalry and artillery." After a pause, the Duke said rather sharply, "Those who can be respected by them must be those who are good at using these three things..."

He dragged out the last sentence, obviously wanting Charles to figure out what he meant. But Charles pondered for a while and still couldn't figure it out.

"Does it mean that the army will respect their commander?"

The original text is available at Six # 9 @Books/Bar!

"Yes, and the commander who led them to victory." The Duke nodded, "After all, wasn't that the case with Mr. Louis Bonaparte's uncle back then?"

"But..." Although Charles had understood what he meant, he was still a little confused, "What should we do?"

An ambiguous smile suddenly flashed across the Duke's face.

"Charles, haven't you been planning for a long time? Soon after Mr. Bonaparte seized power, this country will have a big fight with the Russians and strip them of the reputation they stole by relying on the cold winter..."

"Yes, I do think so." Charles nodded, "and Mr. Bonaparte also agrees with this opinion. However, my age... and I have no military experience, I can't be a commander..."

The Duke still smiled and looked at him.

Charles suddenly understood what the old man meant.

"Do you mean to let my grandfather be the commander? Let him command this war against the Russians?"

The Duke did not answer or make any movements, but this was obviously a silent answer to Charles.

"No, this is not good?" Charles answered subconsciously.

His grandfather, the Marquis of Treville, has been unemployed for so many years. Even if he is re-employed now, can he really be put in the position of the commander-in-chief of the French army in the future war? Don't forget how many people will be jealous of that position that is destined to be recorded in history!

And, the real problem that Charles is worried about is not here.

In this era, a thousand-mile expedition is no joke. Not only do soldiers have to face the invasion of various diseases, but even senior commanders have to face this unpredictable risk. The memory of later generations told him that during the Crimean War, the French commander Marshal de Saint-Arno died of illness on the command ship in 1854.

Marshal Saint-Arno was born in 1801. He was still in his prime during the Crimean War, but he still couldn't withstand this kind of fatigue. The Marquis of Treville is already seventy years old. If he participates in such an expedition, his health is still acceptable now, but can he really withstand it at that time? The consequences are really unpredictable, and I am afraid it will be more dangerous than good.

Charles's worry is absolutely from the heart. This worry exceeds the pure calculation of interests, making him want to reject his uncle's proposal without thinking.

"I think at his age, if he goes to the battlefield again, it might be...it might not be very convenient." With such concerns, Charles quickly refuted the Duke's opinion. "No matter how much honor this position can bring, and how much anger it can relieve grandfather's past experience, taking such a big risk is not... nor is it meaningful!?"

"You are right, Charles, we are all old. In the past few decades, we have been ups and downs, and have seen everything. We are no longer surprised by anything." The Duke still looked at Charles, calmly, "Because of this, we will feel more urgent, because time will not wait for us anymore, we want to finish everything we can do, and we also want you."

"But..."

"People will always die, sooner or later. At least for people of our age, the most important thing when leaving the world is not the time but the way." The Duke said quietly, "I know my brother. He has been very passionate since he was a child and likes to watch those heroic scenes. If he can accomplish such a great feat with his own hands before leaving this world, Charles, don't you think this will be the greatest comfort for him? In this case, shouldn't you fulfill his last wish?"

The Duke's words made Charles' heart move. According to his understanding of the old marquis, it was absolutely normal for him to think this way. How could a person who always thought about his military career not dream about commanding a war in person?

"Is this also his personal wish?" Charles asked in a low voice with the last hope.

"Yes, this is his wish." The Duke nodded, "It's just that he doesn't want to ask his grandson for help."

Then, he looked at Charles.

"Charles, you don't want him to ask you himself, do you?"

There was no hope of stopping it, and Charles smiled bitterly in his heart.

At this time, he felt a sense of heroism in his heart again.

Moreover, why should he stop it? This is the dream that many people dream of!

"If this is his wish, I will do it for him. I will definitely make him the future commander-in-chief of the Black Sea War!" Charles nodded heavily with a mixture of excitement and melancholy.

Then, he looked up at the window, where flashes of light and the roar of guns and cannons were heard from time to time.

He seemed to be talking to the Duke, but also to himself.

"Then let him lead this army and make the Russians cry bitterly." (To be continued...)